The Capacity to Love
by PotterIsMyPatronus
Summary: "You named me after the two people you supposedly 'loved the most', but I don't think you even have the capacity to love! You're just this shell, called a hero, warped by fame, lying about your love for your family. But the truth is, I think you ran out of love a long time ago." James's relationship with his father is falling apart, and someone has to fix it.


**This plot idea has been in my head for weeks. I've only once written in James Sirius's POV for a bootcamp. This was fun. I got stuck about halfway, but I knew that if I didn't keep writing the plot bunny would haunt me for the rest of eternity.**

**Enjoy! Review please.**

* * *

Dad's hand was gripping the edge of the table so hard it was shaking.

James stood, fists clenched, glaring defiantly up at his father. His teeth were raking together, his eyes were wild behind his glasses and he was trembling in fury. This wasn't the first fight he'd had with his father. They'd been tearing at each other since James's nineteenth birthday, which was four months ago.

Mum was staring helplessly at the both of them, her bright hair, still vibrantly red despite her age, flicking in her face as she stared at them both like she was watching a tennis match.

"You're such a git!" James yelled.

"Why are you doing this, James?" Harry hissed.

James laughed bitterly. "Doing what? I'm not doing anything. I've giving you what you deserve. You don't even care!"

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"You named me after the two people you supposedly 'loved the most', but I don't think you even have the capacity to love! You're just this shell, called a hero, warped by fame, lying about your love for your family. But the truth is, I think you ran out of love a long time ago. As soon as precious Albus and Lily came along, you couldn't spare any for me, could you? The black sheep of the family! The one who didn't inherit the talent, or the kindness, or the eyes! The one that didn't mean anything!" James was screaming now, tears that he was too proud to cry burning at the back of his eyes.

Dad froze, and Mum sucked in a breath. He was right, then.

"I'm not thick! I figured it out all by myself!"

James stormed upstairs and to his room, and his parents didn't stop him.

In his room, however, was his brother, with his giant piercing eyes glued to him, and his sister, brushing her hair from her eyes.

"How could you say that?" Albus asked softly, sinking deeper into the bean bag he was sitting on. The set of his mouth displayed his sadness.

James merely looked at him.

"Do you know how much that could hurt him?" Lily said.

"No, but neither do you. You're a fifteen year old girl, not a psychic." James straightened his glasses. They were always slightly lopsided.

Albus suddenly stood up. "God, James. Do you even know how he survived in the Battle of Hogwarts?"

Yes. Everyone knew.

"It was love. And if he didn't have it, he'd probably have killed himself, and we wouldn't exist."

James rolled his eyes, causing Albus to grit his teeth and squeeze his eyes shut in frustration.

Albus stormed across the room, pulled his wand out of his back pocket (Dad always told him off for putting it there) and muttered an incantation. Several floorboards of the room shifted, sliding like pieces in a puzzle, locking and unlocking, to reveal a hole in the ground. Albus preformed a non-verbal Summoning spell and a silvery bowl flew out of the hole and into Lily's arms. The hole then resealed itself.

James's mouth was agape. "Since when was that there?"

"It's been there for years," Albus replied.

"You put it there?" James asked in pure disbelief.

Albus nodded, not looking guilty in the slightest.

"That's pretty cool," James muttered, raising his eyebrows and staring at the place when the hole had been. "But why my room?"

"Because you've searched mine about once a week since I was eleven. I didn't put it past you to even check under the floorboards. So I thought logically, and I assumed correctly you wouldn't search your own room, so I put it in there, and since now, you never knew about it," Albus explained.

Lily was gazing at him in awe.

"So, what is that?"

"I know what that is!" Lily piped up. "That's a Pensieve! But Albus—" Lily turned to the boy in question. "—how ever did you get one?"

"I have my ways," Albus whispered enigmatically. "I need to show you something." Albus reached inside of his pocket and pulled out a yellow vial, filled with little white strands that moved up and down the vial like a lava lamp.

"Before you ask," continued Albus, "it's a memory. One of Dad's. He keeps loads of them in the basement, as well as another Pensieve. I'm going to show you this one."

Albus nodded to Lily and she tossed the Pensieve into the air. It floated as if dangling by an invisible thread at about level with Lily's chest. Albus tipped the white threads of memory into the strange, glittering water and gestured to it.

Lily skipped over to the Pensieve, and James followed after. He saw Lily stand on her tiptoes and begin to lower her face into the water, and did the same.

In the water, he could see flashes of colour, and faces he could recognise. They were only there fleetingly, but he saw Dad, looking almost exactly the same as Albus did, and he saw Mum, looking young and beautiful. He also saw a man that looked like Malfoy, which he assumed to be his father. He could see Aunt Hermione, Uncle Ron, Professor Longbottom, Luna… So many people he knew and loved. He was leaning further down without noticing, his nose almost breaking the surface of the water. A little lower… His nose skimmed the cool liquid…

All of a sudden, there was a lurching sensation in his stomach and he was swept inside of the Pensieve, as if invisible hands has seized him and yanked him down into it. He was falling into the depths of the memory. Lily was plummeting down beside him, her red hair streaming, her eyes alight with curiosity.

Everything went dark, and James landed on the ground with a painful thud. He cried out, but got to his feet and looked around. There were people in the room. As his eyes slowly adjusted, he could see who.

All around the room, the people he loved were being restrained by masked strangers. _Death Eaters_. Mum, Uncle Ron, Aunt Hermione, Professor Longbottom and Luna, all trapped. And Dad was in the middle, facing another man that looked like Malfoy. Judging by his age in comparison to Dad's, James suspected he was Malfoy's grandfather. Dad had a glowing orb in his hand, and by the expression on his face, he was about to snap in two.

"You have a choice, Mr Potter. Give me the prophecy, or watch your friends…die," hissed the cruel man, pacing around Dad.

Dad's face scrunched up. His eyes flickered around the room, looking at each of his friends in desperation.

"Don't give it to him, Harry!" Professor Longbottom yelled, before being silenced by a wand at his throat.

Harry's eyes lingered over Mum, Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron, and then his arm lifted. He dropped the orb into the man's outstretched hand.

"Good." The man examined the orb with a greedy expression.

Dad looked defeated.

James was shocked. There was no way to get around that one. Love made Dad give the orb away. Whatever the orb was, it must have meant a lot to Dad, and he gave it away for the sake of love. James felt sick to his stomach. He glanced over at Lily, who was wiping tears from her eyes.

The scene changed in a blur of darkness and light. Dad was duelling with the man, and someone else was by his side. The man by Dad's side had black hair, a sunken face that looked like it was handsome once.

"Sirius!" Dad yelled.

The man—Sirius, James realised with a jolt—whipped round and blocked a curse. "Thanks, Harry."

Dad shot another spell from his wand and slid across the floor to dodge a Killing Curse.

Sirius did a jabbing motion with his wand and shoved the cruel man backwards. Dad disarmed him.

"Good job, James!" Sirius praised.

Dad froze, staring at Sirius with a hurt expression. James (Sirius) quickly realised why.

The next seconds went by as fast as lightning.

"_Avada Kedavra!_" screeched a crazy woman from across the room. Green light whipped from her wand and sank into Sirius's chest.

Sirius looked at Dad. A shocked laugh spilled from his mouth and he vanished behind the curtains hanging from the archway in the centre of the room.

Another man, with pale brown hair and scars across his face, grabbed Dad before he could run after Sirius.

"Sirius! _Sirius!_" Dad screamed.

"Harry," the scarred man said desperately, "he's gone, he's dead…"

Dad seized up furiously. "He's. Not. Dead," he hissed; the rage in his voice was beyond anything James had ever heard. "Sirius!"

The scarred man was still struggling to keep his hold on Dad when the crazy woman—murderer—giggled. Dad froze and stared blankly at her. She winked at him before sashaying out of the room. In a surge of uncontrollable rage, he broke the scarred man's hold on him and raced after her, ignoring the screams and cries behind him.

James was dying to know what happened next, but the air around him tightened, and he was spat out of the memory.

* * *

As James lay on the floor of his bedroom, regaining his breath, he heard Albus ask, "Does that convince you?"

"Convince me—of what?" James gasped.

"That Dad can love?"

James rolled onto his stomach and wriggled to his feet. "It convinced me that he used to be able to, there's no doubt about that. I also learnt the origin of my middle name." James brushed the dust from his jeans. "But I'm not sure about now."

Albus sighed in exasperation. "You're so stubborn." He walked towards James until he was about a metre away and put his hands on James's shoulders. "Do you want to know who Dad loves the most?"

James snorted and sneered, "Easy one. You."

Albus shook his head.

"Lily."

Albus repeated the action, now smiling slightly.

"…Me?" James was wary now.

Albus shook his head once again.

"I don't know."

Lily stood up and walked to Albus' side. Together, they said, "Mum."

James raised an eyebrow.

"God, have you seen how he looks at her? He adores her," Lily stated.

"Just go and look," Albus suggested.

Doing as his brother advised, James Apparated downstairs and peeped around the doorway of the living room. He could see the familiar sparrow's nest of hair that belonged to his father, and the long, fiery locks that belonged to his mother. Dad was staring at the fireplace, his face set like stone.

"He'll come round, Harry. You'll see," Mum said in an attempt to comfort him.

"But what if he doesn't, Gin? What if he moves away and we never speak again? What if I lose him?" Dad panicked.

Mum brushed some of his hair from his eyes. "What if a lion smashed through the window and ate us all?" she laughed.

Dad looked at her, and James knew. His face, usually toughened by fame and memories, softened into a gentle smile, like a smile of a man looking at his treasure. Some couples spread apart as they get older. In fact, most do a little bit. There's less kissing, less passionate moments—more crazy children, and after them, more silence, causing more fighting in order to fill the gap. But some grow closer. Some cherish the fact that they have more days to be together, another day to love one another, another week, another month, another year. And, despite it being his own parents, and him not being the deepest of people, James found it beautiful.

"It'll work itself out in the end. Trust me."

Dad smiled genuinely and kissed Mum on the forehead.

James couldn't take it. He stepped forward.

"Dad, I am so sorry. For everything I did. Everything I said. It was horrible. I had no excuse. I don't even have the right to be forgiven. I was inconsiderate and didn't take your past into account and I am so, so sorry for that. You know I'm moving away on Saturday, and I couldn't go without letting you know I'm sorry for the fighting. I—"

Suddenly, James felt arms around him and spiky hair brushing his face. He wrapped his arms around his father and squeezed him tight. It had been years since they had hugged like this. He was slightly shorter than his father, but when they put their heads together in their hug, you couldn't tell which was which.

"I forgive you. I always will. You're my son and I love you no matter what," Dad promised.

James pulled back, his eyes damp with tears. "No matter what?"

"No matter what." Dad smiled.

And James believed him.

He really did.

* * *

_Fin. This is a one-shot, which means no sequel. __Ever.__ Unless you're lucky._


End file.
